Survival
by CrypticCalico
Summary: Based on the MOVIE WAR OF THE WORLDS 2005. My take on what happened to Robbie Ferrier after he was separated from Rachael and Ray.
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Let me go."

Those three words hung heavily in the air, as another platoon of soldiers swept past us, screaming orders to one another and shooting off ineffective lead and explosives at the Tripods.

I started to pull away. My dad's hand slid off my leg gradually as I crawled away from him. Time itself seemingly had slowed. I got to my feet and turned around to face him. We stared at each other for a fleeting second, our uncertainty reflected in each other's eyes. He turned and ran back down the hill to Rachel.

Thoughts were racing wildly through my mind at this point. Ray, the asshole Ray Ferrier, who was my father, was letting me go? I was blissfully oblivious of the explosions surrounding me, and the people and soldiers shouting. I still couldn't quite grasp the fact that I was free. Free, but very much alone.

Another blast roared deafeningly to my right, snapping me back to the harsh reality of my situation. I stared as one of the army's jeeps came rolling down the hill, its interior aflame, as well as its unfortunate imprisoned passengers. I watched, wide-eyed, as the jeeps rolled down the hill one by one, each trailing red flames, the screams of their ill-fated riders echoing behind them. At that moment I decided that I no longer wanted to help fight the Tripods. Just surviving to see Mom and Rachel's smiling faces would be enough for now.


	2. John

Chapter 1: John

I ran as fast as I could downhill, away from the bedlam the Tripods were inflicting upon the remaining soldiers. I knew that the soldiers couldn't really do anything to damage the Tripods, so ultimately they were fated to lose. And I really didn't want to be around when they did.

As I ran, I started to wonder why I wanted to fight them in the first place. True, they were destroying everything that I knew, everything that was familiar to me. But I was angry then. Now…I just wanted to survive.

Another jeep rolled past me. I followed its path with my eyes and watched in horror as it rolled uncontrollably over two people running away from the Tripods. They did not get up. With a pang I realized that Ray and Rachel were also still likely on the hill. I prayed with all my might that the two people were not them; I didn't think I could bear it if my sister was killed. And Ray…well, let's just say I had become accustomed to his presence, and I certainly wouldn't feel nothing if he was killed.

All of a sudden, a huge roar sounded from behind me. The Tripods had finally been successful in destroying all of the soldiers and their useless weapons. I flew forward and landed roughly on the ground. The impact winded me, and I felt searing heat from the explosion burn my bare skin. A piece of shrapnel from the blast lodged itself in my arm, and I inhaled sharply, hissing in pain.

Suddenly I was jerked to my feet and was being pulled, stumbling, away from the Tripods. I was now panicky and afraid, among other things, and my head was swimming, enough so that I allowed myself to be dragged along without much resistance.

The person leading me finally let go when we were near the edge of a densely wooded area. I collapsed onto the ground, letting my limbs fall where they pleased, too exhausted to move them. I lay there on the ground for a moment, only dimly aware of the throbbing pain in my arm. Finally I opened my eyes to survey my rescuer.

He looked to be a man of about forty. His face was slightly weather-beaten, with piercing blue eyes and graying hair. He was tall, and seemed to be in rather good shape, although as I watched him he took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He was wearing a red shirt under a denim jacket, and a pair of rubber boots over his jeans.

Subsequently he noticed me watching him, and gazed in my direction inquisitively.

"Ya okay, kid?" he asked gruffly over the cigarette in his mouth.

"I think so," I croaked, jumping slightly at the sound of my own voice. I looked down at my arm.

His eyes traveled downwards and settled on the piece of metal sticking out of the sleeve of my jacket.

"That's not good," he muttered, and walked over to kneel beside me. He put one hand on my arm beside the piece of metal. I flinched and bit back a cry of anguish.

He grasped the small piece of metal and looked at me apologetically.

"It's gonna have to come out, or it'll get infected," he told me.

I gritted my teeth and nodded.

With one swift tug he wrenched it out of my arm.

My cry of pain rang out through the trees, echoing and fading to stifled sobs as I fought to control myself.

Blood gushed from the wound and I stared at it in shock. Could I possibly die from exsanguination from a wound of this size?

The man quickly ripped a strand of cloth from his shirt and bound the wound tightly. The piece of shirt immediately stained dark red, but blood did not come through the cloth. I sighed in relief and closed my eyes. My arm was throbbing intensely, but it was better than having a piece of metal stuck in it. I was glad that I hadn't been alone for this, even though my companion was a stranger.

After a few more minutes of silence, the man said, "Well, if we're going to be traveling together, we might as well know each other's names. I'm John," he said.

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

"I'm Robbie," I said, not knowing if I should give him my last name as well.

"Nice to meet ya, Robbie," John said. "Considering the circumstances."

I managed a small smile, but couldn't muster the strength to say anything more.

John smiled back at me and said, "Can you walk?"

I just looked at him, with what I hoped was a pleading expression on my face. He clapped a hand over my shoulder and said, "I'll take that as a no. Sleep, then. Don't worry about anything. I'll keep watch."

I watched through half-closed eyes as John sauntered over to a birch tree and leaned against it, crossing his arms and puffing his cigarette.

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply. The throbbing in my arm was becoming more extreme, and I wondered if I would ever doze off. My thoughts turned to Ray and Rachel, and I prayed silently that they had gotten away from the Tripods alive, and were now safe and sound somewhere, together. I wondered how my little sister was doing without me; she relied on me so much. I felt a stab of regret that I had left them for such a narrow-minded reason. I had been so selfish. My inner turmoil kept me awake for so long that I became uncomfortable in the position I was laying on the ground.

I shifted slightly, trying not to move my injured arm, but trying to clear my mind at the same time. I opened one eye a slit and looked at John. He was staring out over the darkened field in front of us, his cigarette merely a speck of glowing ash in the night.

Finally I felt myself drifting off. The last thought on my mind before I fell asleep was that I was putting my trust and faith in a complete stranger.


	3. Conversations

Chapter 2

The next morning I was pulled out of my slumber by John's hand shaking me urgently, almost violently.

"Come on, kid, wake up," he said, "We've gotta move." There was a frantic note in his voice that I couldn't ignore. I got stiffly to my feet, and my head swam. I stood dizzily for a moment, letting my vision clear, before looking out over the field. There were several specks in the distance, still small, but very distinctly more Tripods. I groaned and hung my head, staring at my feet woozily. My arm ached greatly; I didn't even want to look at it. I knew I would see the coagulated blood on the cloth from when I had been sleeping, and I didn't know if I could take it.

"Come on," John said. He took my arm and pulled me along the treeline, keeping the Tripods in sight all the while. I watched the scenery go by as John pulled me along, but none of it stayed in my memory. My mind was fuzzy, and I couldn't think clearly, let alone walk properly. I tripped over nothing more than once, and every time I did so John looked back at me with an exasperated look on his face, then looked at the steadily approaching Tripods and hauled me along even more quickly than before.

When he finally stopped a considerable distance from the Tripods, he let go of me and I fell to the ground, not even having enough strength to stand on my own two feet. I stared at John and my vision blurred, then cleared, then blurred again. I shook my head, blackness tugging at the edges of my consciousness. Then I found myself slipping into a welcome darkness, where I could feel nothing.

I opened my eyes and blinked. Stars were shining brightly at me from a clear sky. I sat up groggily, and as I did so something heavy slid off of my chest. I squinted at it through the pale moonlight and realized that it was John's jacket.

Suddenly I became aware of my arm throbbing painfully. I looked down at it right away, not thinking twice of what I might see.

I grimaced at the sight of it. The skin under the cloth had turned an angry purplish-blue colour, and it was swollen to a little less then twice its normal size. The bandage did not look like it had been changed.

I placed a finger on it gingerly and immediately pulled my hand away, gasping as pain shot through my arm. My throat constricted and I struggled not to cry.

"What's wrong?" The voice came from the shadows to my left.

"Uh," I said. My voice shook and I was trembling.

John emerged into the moonlight, looking vaguely worried.

I lowered my arm and tried to hide it, afraid of what he might say about its condition. He was too quick for me.

He caught my arm and held it in front of him to get a better look. I winced at the pressure of his fingers so close to the wound and recoiled slightly.

John looked up at my face. I was still wincing and trying to pull away.

"How much does it hurt?" he asked.

"A lot," I whispered. I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I blinked, sending them curving trails through the dirt over my cheekbones.

"That much, huh?" John said. His face softened and he let go of my arm, looking concerned.

I looked at the ground, feeling ashamed of the fact that I was crying in front of him. I hated it when I cried.

John eyed me, looking thoughtful. "Can I take the bandage off and have a look at it?" he asked.

I hesitated, then nodded, still looking at the ground. I would take a chance and trust him. He was all I had, and if I couldn't trust him I didn't know what I would do.

John took my arm, more carefully this time, and untied the bandage. It was slightly stuck to the congealed blood, and I flinched when John pulled it off. I looked away, knowing that my stomach would be unable to take the sight of the wound.

I heard a low whistle from John as he examined my arm.

I swallowed and asked, "How bad?"

"Not that bad," he assured me. He ripped another strip from his shirt and bound the wound again with a clean bandage. I jumped as the cloth tightened around my arm.

"It would have been better if it could have been cleaned, but you'll have to wait for that." John told me.

"So how did you end up at the battlefield anyways?" he asked conversationally after a short silence.

"I was with my…my dad and sister, and we were…walking," I said lamely. I wasn't completely sure if I should tell him the details of my tale.

"Just walking, eh? That explains a lot," John said, smiling and raising his eyebrows.

I felt a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

"How about you?" I replied.

"I lived around there. My house was destroyed when the Tripods came through," he said. "I was sitting outside when I saw them coming. I called to my wife and son to come back. They were picking berries about a mile down the road."

John stopped suddenly. I looked at him questioningly, and found that he looked close to tears.

"The Tripods got to them before I could do anything," he finished quietly.

I stared at him uncertainly. Why was he telling me this? I wasn't sure what to do…Was I supposed to comfort him or something?

John smiled unexpectedly, and shook it off like it had been nothing. I frowned, more confused then ever.

"I'm sorry about that," John said, seeing the bewildered look on my face. "I just…had to get it off my chest," He added, his smile ebbing away as quickly as it had come.

I could understand how he felt. There was a lot that I wanted to get off my chest as well.

After that we got to talking. I was really starting to like him; he was quick-witted, funny, and intelligent, but also down to earth and kind-hearted. I explained to him a bit about my family, and even delved somewhat into my relationship with Ray. I told him how worried I was about Rachel, and John assured me that she would surely be safe with my father. He even went on to say that they had probably made it to Boston by now, and were sitting with my mother, and Tim, and my grandparents, talking and laughing over a hot supper.

Finally we noticed the Tripods drawing near once again, and we decided to get moving. The darkness would help keep us hidden, and we could keep the Tripods in sight, owing to their exceedingly bright lights.

I was truly glad that I wasn't alone.


	4. The Forest

Chapter 3

We had decided to push on and try to get to Boston as soon as we could. John seemed to understand what I was going through, and said that he wanted to see me safely to my family before going on to his sister's, who coincidentally also resided in Boston.

After we had been walking for a while, my stomach started to ache. I thought that perhaps it was due to the fact that I had not eaten since I had been at Ray's. I explained this theory to John, and he said that he also was starting to feel the effects of hunger. We decided then that we would pass through the forest, instead of traveling at its border. According to John there was a small town not far from the other side of the forest.

Luckily I still had some pocket money that Mom had given me for the stay at Ray's. When I told John that I would pay for the food, he just looked at me ruefully; he didn't have anything with him apart from the clothes on his back. He hadn't had the time to take anything.

I wondered briefly if we would still have to pay for food with all the destruction the Tripods were causing. I quickly dismissed this thought; there was no way that the shopkeepers would be giving food away now. If anything, they would have jacked up their prices for the people with no home left, who had no choice but to buy from the shops and restaurants. Sick. I shook my head reproachfully, hoping that I had enough money to last us to Boston.

I stumbled over a stick, which sent me tumbling to the ground. I landed hard on my bad arm, causing me to cry out. I rolled over, cradling my arm and biting my tongue as I waited for the pain to subside.

John, who was quite a bit ahead of me, turned around and saw me on the ground. He stood where he had stopped and waited for me to get up.

I sighed, getting to my feet. I didn't feel like walking anymore. But I had no choice.

By the afternoon I was quickly becoming irritable, and snapped at John when he asked me if I was thirsty.

"Well, what do you think?" I snarled.

He looked taken aback, even backing up a few steps. I exhaled slowly and rubbed my forehead. I looked at him and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's ok," John said. "I kind of know how you feel. But we're near a river, so-"

"Really?" I interrupted.

"It should be just through those trees there," he said, indicating a clump of poplar just ahead. He strode purposefully forward, and I followed him without question. My mouth was suddenly dry as I remembered how long it had been since I had had a drink of _anything_, even water.

I walked faster, pushing stray leaves and twigs out of my way. I burst out onto the riverbank and dropped to my knees, cupping my hands and plunging them into the water. I drank deeply, once, twice, three times before falling back on the bank to look around.

The water flowed and tumbled over the rocky riverbed, curving out of sight around the next corner to my left. The riverbank itself was gravelly and covered with broken clam shells, which dug into my legs as I knelt on them. The afternoon sun shone through the trees, showering everything in an ethereal yellow glow, and the orange autumn leaves fluttered to the ground here and there, littering the forest floor. There was a boulder next to the river, covered in lush green moss, growing down over the pile of rocks beside it.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" John said from behind me.

"Yeah," I breathed. The clear, crisp autumn air filled my lungs as I inhaled deeply. "Do you think we could stay here for awhile?"

John scratched the back of his head as he pursed his lips, looking contemplative.

"Maybe. But we would have to go even longer without food…" he began.

"That's ok. I think I can last one more day without food. And there's lots of water here anyways," I said. "We should be able to reach that town tomorrow, and we can eat then."

John surveyed me skeptically. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

John scrutinized me for another long moment. Then he shrugged, mumbled something under his breath, and started off downriver.

I sat on the bank for a long while, just admiring the forest. After a while, I became aware of a dull ache starting in my arm. _Not again, _I thought disgustedly. I exhaled forcibly. My breath blew the fringe of hair in front of my eyes into the air, causing it to fall back in disarray. I brushed it away absently, thinking hard. There was something that John had mentioned before, something I should remember right now…

The river splashed noisily, and suddenly it clicked. He had said that if I got the chance, to wash the cut. I groaned, but knew that it would be good to wash it if I really wanted to lower the risk of infection. And I did.

I sighed and leaned over the water. I looked wryly at my distorted reflection in the river. I smiled and started to wash the grime from my hands and face first. Might as well be as clean as possible, I didn't want dirt or sand to get into the cut.

Taking a deep breath, I untied the piece of cloth binding the wound. I tried not to look directly at it, but couldn't wash it properly without looking at it. My stomach churned as I splashed water cautiously over the dried blood. The swelling had gone down, but the cut individually still looked terrible to my eyes. I exhaled slowly as my arm started to sting, and I splashed more water on it, hoping that perhaps the frigid water would numb it for me. I decided that this was enough for now, and that I would wash it again later.

It was only when I was carefully retying the bandage that I heard the scream.


	5. Loss

Chapter 4

I frowned and cocked my head to one side, listening. I heard it again. It was the long, drawn-out cry of a person in distress. It dawned on me then that it was coming from downriver, in the direction that John had gone. I felt my stomach give a queasy twinge.

Getting up, I headed towards the sound cautiously, trying to lighten the sound of my footfalls upon the forest floor. I walked as quietly as I could, trying to blend with the thin foliage, which was all that the season provided. I pushed a branch out of my way and it snapped back into place behind me, whipping against another tree loudly as it did so. I stopped dead, listening attentively. After I was sure that it was safe, I swore silently and vowed to be more careful from then on.

I heard the sound of voices as I approached; there was a low undertone of muffled guttural noises. I picked up my feet, trying to make it seem as if I were floating over the ground.

Suddenly the voices were right in front of me, in a clearing I hadn't noticed while I was walking. I cringed and ducked behind a low bush, trying to sit still and praying that I hadn't been heard or seen. I peered through the branches into the clearing to inspect the scene.

There were three men standing together, talking loudly to one another. One was tall and muscular, one was short, and the other had a potbelly…and a shotgun. My mouth dropped open as I recognized the figure behind them on the ground. It was John, struggling with ropes that bound his hands and feet, and trying in vain to rid himself of the gag that restrained his cries.

"Wha' should we do wit 'im?" said the one with the potbelly, motioning towards John with the butt of his gun.

"Well, he's got nothing of value on him," the tall one said.

"Lets kill him," said the short one, looking rather excited at the prospect.

"No," the tall one said. "He might be useful to us alive."

The short one immediately looked downcast, grumbling and shooting a mutinous look at the tall man, whom I guessed to be the unsung leader of the three. I let out the breath I had been holding, slowly, carefully, gauging the sound and length so I would not be heard.

"Wha' we do wit 'im den?" the potbellied one asked.

"I don't know," the tall one admitted.

"Kill him," said the short one again.

"No," the tall one insisted. "We'll find some use for him."

As they argued, I watched as John fought against his bindings. I stared in anticipation as he worked the gag laboriously out of his mouth. Finally, it slid down his chin. A triumphant look spread across his face as he opened his mouth.

"ROBBIE!" he screamed. "RUN! DON'T COME THIS WAY! HEAD THE WAY WE WERE GOING! DON'T COME BACK FOR ME! RUN!"

I jumped a mile when the first word left his mouth, and shrunk back as the men turned on him.

"Wha' d'you say?!" the potbellied one roared.

"There's someone with him!" exclaimed the tall one.

"Where is 'e?" said the potbellied one, pushing his gun roughly up against John's head. John remained silent, giving the men a stubborn look and staring defiantly at the gunman, as if daring him to shoot.

"WHERE IS 'E?" shouted the potbellied man again. I heard a click as he readied the gun for the pulling of the trigger.

John opened his mouth and I felt my breath hitch.

"He's further downriver," John said, looking at the ground.

The tall man cackled victoriously. His potbellied friend pulled the gun away from John's head and looked at his boss. The short one looked at his boss as well, positively shaking with excitement.

"Go upriver."

John head shot upwards, his mouth open and his eyes wide in alarm.

"See," laughed the tall man maniacally, "I'm not as stupid as you think."

"You son of a bitch," John growled, his eyes glittering menacingly.

The tall man laughed again, and sent off his colleagues with a wave of his hand.

I squeezed my eyes shut crouched as low as I could behind the bush, waiting for the shout of elation as they found me hiding only feet away from where they were standing. It never came.

"Wait!" I heard John call pleadingly. I opened my eyes and lifted my head cautiously, looking through the branches and leaves that shielded me from the men's view.

The short man and the potbellied man stopped and stared at their boss, waiting for further instruction. The tall man looked at them, and then looked back at John with an audacious sort of curiosity.

"What do you want?" he asked slowly.

"I want…" John faltered.

A look of arrogance passed over the tall man's face.

"Yes?" he pressed mockingly.

"Don't hurt him." John said finally, his head hanging low in defeat.

" 'Don't hurt him'," the tall man sneered. "You beg for his life and not for yours?"

John looked up at the man, deep sorrow intermingling with something in his eyes that I could not find words to describe.

"I have nothing to live for," he said quietly.

The tall man looked down at John disgustedly and pulled him to his feet. The man pushed John forward and they advanced on my hiding place once again. This time I was ready. Before they could take two steps forward, I launched myself from behind the bush, past them, heading downriver.

"He's been here the whole time!" the tall man shouted. "Get him, Shorty!"

I ran blindly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I was going to escape! I was going to make it! My hopes all came crashing down as I was tackled from behind. I had been a fool to think that I could outrun a full-grown man.

"Well, hello there," Shorty hissed in my ear. I swung my head to the side as hard as I could, and hit him in the face with my head. Blood gushed from his nose and ran down the back of my neck. I struggled to pull away, but he held tight.

Shorty dragged me to my feet and held my arm tightly as he pulled me back towards the others. I yelped loudly as his hand closed over the bandage that was under my coat sleeve. Shorty took no notice of this and proceeded to haul me back to his comrades.

When we entered the clearing, Shorty grasped a handful of my hair and pulled my head back, exposing my neck to the other two vagabonds.

My eyes traveled over to John, who was now looking at me in despair.

The tall man laughed sardonically. "He's just a kid!"

_I am NOT a kid, _I thought indignantly. I fought with Shorty's grip and tried to lunge towards the leader. Shorty just chuckled and pulled me back. I struggled, kicking his shin, and he smacked me across the face with his free hand.

"Don't hurt him!"

Bang.

John stared right through me as if I were a ghost. Blood pooled from the gaping hole in his chest, and he started to cough violently. Red stained his lips as he fought for air, blood spurted from his mouth. He toppled slowly backwards onto the leaves, the fear gone from his eyes. The only thing I could do was stare at his broken body, his limbs lying spread-eagled over the ground. His eyes were open and glassy; staring into an empty chasm forevermore.


	6. A Meeting

Chapter 5

We all stared at the widening pool of blood that was spreading over the leaves under John's body. I felt Shorty's grip slacken. I snapped out of my stupor of shock, and took the window of opportunity granted to me by my companion's death. I bolted.

They were either too stupid or too sluggish to follow. I heard them all yelling at each other behind me.

"Why did you do that?!"

" 'e woz makin' me angry!"

"That's no excuse!"

"Yeah!"

"Wha's so bad abou' it?!"

"Everything, you idiot!"

The sound of the shotgun pierced the silence of the forest once again, and I shuddered as I ran, thinking of one of the two men whose life had ended this way.

I ran as long and fast as I could, the adrenaline keeping me going. I finally sank to the ground, exhausted, under the branches of a large spruce tree. My chest heaved and I trembled, the image of John's vacant face still etched in my mind. I sobbed quietly for the memory of my friend. Every sound that I heard made my heart skip a beat.

I sat shivering under the tree until I was certain that the remaining men weren't coming after me. I crawled out from under the tree slowly, checking in the direction I had come from. I stood and looked around, trying to figure out which way was to the town. I bit my top lip and turned right. I let my instincts tell me which way to go.

After walking for who knows how long, I started to realize just how much I was missing John. He had talked to me and told jokes while we were walking, keeping my mind off of other things. Now all I could do was worry. It had been comforting just to have him there, another person, in the same predicament as I. Now I was alone, and I couldn't even begin to imagine how I was going to survive without him. I sincerely hoped that I would arrive at the town sometime soon.

My stomach growled and I cursed it silently. I shouldn't have told him that I wanted to stay when we'd been at the river. If it hadn't been for me, we would have kept going on to the town and John would still be alive right now, laughing, cracking jokes, and telling me stories about his life like he'd done before to keep me entertained.

I sighed. Reminiscing and wishing would do me no good in my current situation.

Suddenly I noticed a glimmer of light coming through the trees ahead. It must be the edge of the forest! I broke into a run, newfound energy surging through my legs. A branch whipped my cheek and I felt it sting, but I didn't care. I halted at the edge of the treeline and leaned against the maple nearest to me. I could see the houses of the town rising from the ground about two kilometers away, their lights blinking cheerily in the dimming evening.

"Come on, Grandma. This way."

I froze. To my right, traveling unseen by me until now, was a girl about my age, guiding an elderly lady with a hand on her arm. The girl was nearly my height, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. The elderly lady, who was obviously the girl's grandmother, was very short, half my height at least, and seemed to be extremely mobile for someone of her age. She had no cane or walker, and her sharp eyes spotted me standing there right away.

"Who're you? What are you doing here?" she squeaked, examining me over the top of her completely round gold rimmed glasses.

"I-I…" I stuttered.

The girl looked up and started, she must have overlooked me just as I had overlooked her and her grandmother.

"Who are _you_?" The old woman repeated, jabbing me in the chest with her index finger.

"_Grandma!_" The girl complained. "Be polite!"

The girl turned to me apologetically and reached out her hand. I shook it tentatively.

"I'm Petra. And this is Mona." Petra said, gesturing towards her grandmother, who was still eyeing me suspiciously. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms were crossed, and she was tapping her foot on the ground impatiently.

Petra rolled her eyes and I smiled faintly. Mona was a character all right.

"Well, we better get going then," Petra said after a short silence. She took her grandmother's arm and started to lead her away. Into the forest.

"Don't go in there!" I blurted.

"You can't tell me what to do!" Mona exclaimed.

"Shush!" Petra told her. She turned to me and asked, "Why not?"

"It, uh…could be dangerous," I replied.

Petra raised her eyebrows skeptically. "And you are telling us this why, exactly?"

"Because…" I had nothing to back up what I had said. I was sure they wouldn't believe me if I told them what had really happened.

Petra turned away and was about to step into the forest when I grabbed her arm. That's when I had a stroke of genius.

"The Tripods are coming from that way. They could come through here any time. Come with me instead," I insisted, finding my voice at last. It wasn't a lie, exactly. The Tripods were coming from that way, but from what I remembered, they hadn't been heading this way.

"I'm not going with you! I don't even know your name…punk." Mona said.

"I'm Robbie," I said, reaching out a hand to shake hers.

"Robbie, eh…" Mona muttered, ignoring my outstretched hand.

I lowered my arm and looked at Petra instead, who was staring at the ground thoughtfully. After a few minutes of silence, I opened my mouth to say something, but someone else did first.

"Let's go with him," Mona said abruptly.

I stared at her in shock, and Petra looked up sharply.

"What makes you say that?" she asked her grandmother.

"I have a good feeling about him," Mona said simply.

Petra looked from Mona to me confusedly. I shrugged.

She took a deep breath and looked out over the fields towards town.

"Alright. Let's go."

**A/N – Argh! That was a terrible chapter. Sorry guys. ******


	7. Town

Chapter 6

We ambled down the hill slowly towards town. I suddenly wondered if I would have to pay for all of our food when we got there. Distracted by this thought, I tripped over a stone and swore loudly.

"Watch your language!" Mona said, smacking me on the back of the head as I got to my feet. I smiled apologetically and she smacked me again.

"Don't smirk at me, boy!" she squeaked.

I had to stifle a laugh as she stormed down the hill in front of me. I heard Petra giggle behind me and Mona whirled around, staring. She narrowed her eyes at me and turned back around, glaring over her shoulder as she did so.

"Is she always like this?" I whispered when Mona was out of earshot.

"Pretty much," Petra laughed. "She's so crazy."

I smiled, thinking of my own grandparents.

"Where were you guys headed?" I asked. "Before you met me, I mean."

"I don't really know," Petra admitted. "Just…away. Somewhere. To hide out and stuff, I guess. Until it's safe to come out…if it ever is."

I wanted to ask about her parents, but decided that since they weren't with her, perhaps it wouldn't be such a good subject. After that we lapsed into silence. We trekked onwards wordlessly, over the grassy and somewhat rocky fields leading to the town. The clouds hung drearily low in the bleak gray sky, threatening to unleash their fury upon us at any moment. I hoped that it would hold off until we were indoors. _With my luck, it'll start raining just to spite me, _I thought gloomily. I was right.

The rain came down in sheets; soaking through our clothes and making us shiver as we walked. Then the wind started, cold and biting and stinging. We trudged along slowly, wearily, packed tightly together to avoid as much cold as possible. Even Mona was too tired and wet to complain.

Raindrops traced rivulets over my face and through my hair. I pulled my dripping jacket closer around my body and turned to look at Petra.

She was walking with her head down into the wind, and she was shivering violently every few minutes. Her sopping hair was being blown frenziedly into the air by the howling wind. _Her sweater must be soaked through, _I thought sympathetically. I considered giving her my jacket, but it wouldn't do any more for her then her sweater was already doing. Everything was just too wet.

Mona was plowing determinedly through the mud, staring straight ahead at our destination. Her assurance gave me strength.

Finally I looked up to see the lights of the town blinking at me through the shroud of fog and the cold rain. I sighed deeply, knowing that soon we would be in a warm restaurant with dozens of more people, taking refuge from the downpour and eating to our hearts' content. Well, as much content as the money I had could give us, if I had to pay for us all.

I opened my mouth to ask, but the wind blew rain into my mouth, causing me to gag and choke. I thought better of it as I closed my mouth, and decided that I would deal with it when the time came.

My feet hit pavement. I saw Petra bend down and heard her say something to Mona, but I was too excited to listen. I sped up, heading towards the first restaurant I saw, across the street from where we were. My shoes splashed through a puddle in the middle of the road, and I heard two more splashes close behind me. I fumbled with the doorknob, my numb fingers slipping over the cold metal. I pushed my way through the door into the building, and headed over to one of the booths near a window. The seat was made of deep red leather, and it sunk in when I collapsed onto it. My tense muscles relaxed completely, I let my head rest against the back of the seat.

Petra slid in beside me, and Mona sat opposite us, inspecting everyone in the restaurant thoroughly.

"Where's the _service_?" she complained, after a particularly probing examination of the man behind the cash register.

A bored-looking waitress came over to our booth and held out some menus.

"What would you like today?" she drawled in a monotone.

"Um…" I glanced sideways at Petra uneasily, wondering if I was paying for all of us.

"Don't know what you want?" she smiled. "We'll have two specials," she said, motioning at herself and Mona, who was staring at something outside as the torrential rain beat against the window. Petra pulled a wad of bills from her soaking pocket and held it up.

"I'm afraid you might have to wait for this to dry, though," she said, waving it in the air.

Relief washed over me. "I'll have a special too," I added.

An hour later, we had finished our meals and were contemplating where to spend the night.

"Let's stay at a hotel," Petra suggested.

"Do you have enough money to stay at a hotel?" I asked skeptically.

"Oh…" Petra said. Her face fell.

"Sorry," I said.

"That's ok," she said, smiling faintly. She turned to Mona. "What do you think?"

Mona hadn't budged from the window. Even when she'd been eating, she kept glancing outside. I hadn't taken any notice of it until now.

"Mona!" Petra said, shaking her grandmother's arm.

Leaning over the table, I saw what had held Mona's attention riveted to the window.

"Uh," My voice sounded high and dismayed. "We might possibly want to stay here for a while."

"Why?" Petra asked bemusedly. She leaned over the table beside me, and her mouth dropped open in horror, her face masked with disbelief.

"Oh no…" she said quietly.


	8. Tripods

Chapter 7

I could see their lights flashing as they moved over the field. Tripods. They were heading our way. I sank back onto the seat, suddenly feeling very ill. Petra's face was bloodless. Mona did not seem worried at all.

"What are we going to do?" Petra whispered, her eyes wild with fear.

"I don't know," I said faintly. Petra clutched my arm as we heard an earsplitting roar come from outside.

"Was that _them?!_" Mona screeched.

"Stay here! _Don't _go outside," I ordered.

The people in the restaurant were suddenly a flurry of movement. Someone screamed. I saw a mother pulling her two children out the door as fast as she could. Someone stumbled and nearly pulled Petra out of the booth when they used her for support as they scrambled to their feet. I moved over as far as I could, making more room for her. Mona still hadn't budged.

When everyone who was going to leave had gone, I pried my arm out of Petra's vice-like grip, shoved her out of the way, and hurried over to the window on the other side of the restaurant. I pressed a cheek against the glass and stared down Main Street to watch.

People were flooding out of houses and stores as far as I could see down the street. _What the hell are they DOING?! _I thought. To me, it seemed that they would more likely be safer indoors…But I didn't want to risk going outside to warn them and leave my companions. After what had happened to John, I was determined to keep these two safe.

I looked over my shoulder to see how they were doing. Petra was staring straight ahead into space, ashen-faced, her features wrought with worry. She was gripping the edge of the table so hard that her knuckles were white. Mona was staring wide-eyed out the window, unmoving. I was glad that I hadn't allowed them to go through the forest. Shuddering, I tried to push the image of John's vacant blue eyes from my mind.

A sudden commotion caught my eye and I turned back to the window. The Tripods were steadily drawing nearer, their lasers reaching what they themselves could not, as of this moment.

I saw a laser dissolve a man in mid-step, the dust of his remains hovering in the air for several seconds before another hysterical person ran blindly through them, the dust covering their face and hair in a thin grey coating, not unlike the flour my mother used for baking. I felt suddenly nauseous as I realized what the substance had been on Ray's clothing, face and hair when he had returned to his apartment that day and demanded that we leave right away.

Multiple lasers shot from each Tripod, none missing their mark. There was grey dust-covered clothing raining down Main Street every few meters. Panicking citizens ran as fast as they could down the street, not thinking at all of going into a building or hiding in an alley. More than one person I saw slipped on the clothes, which slowed them down, and consequently led them to their untimely demise.

The Tripods had reached the edge of the town. Having successfully thinned the crowd of people, they could move more quickly and more efficiently through the streets without having to worry about throngs of pesky humans getting in their way. I saw them mercilessly pick off an entire family, an old man with a walker, a frightened toddler, a stray dog. A woman was dissipated right in front of my window. I pulled my face away from the glass disgustedly and checked on my companions once again, just to be sure that they were there.

I wondered absently what would have happened if John was here. He would have known what to do. I chewed my lip nervously as the Tripods neared our end of Main Street. They were now taking pieces off of buildings as well; and pulling up parts of concrete from the road.

Suddenly I saw a piece of a brick wall being hurtled my way. I ducked.

The piece of wall crashed through the window above me. Glass rained down over my head as I heard the brick hit the wall of the restaurant behind the counter. I got up slowly, tentatively, looking around for Mona and Petra. They were all right, having hid under the table as soon as they'd seen me duck. I sighed with relief.

"Is…is he dead?" Petra whispered.

I turned to see what she was looking at. The clerk must not have known what was happening. All I could see were his legs sticking out from behind the counter. I walked over the glass and peered over the counter.

The piece of the brick wall must have hit him at full speed. His head was torn clean off, severed completely from his body, lying a few feet away. Ragged strips of flesh and sinew hung from both pieces of the neck, blood spattered the floor where the head had hit and slid across the floor. I gagged and turned away from the grotesque sight.

"Yeah, he's dead," I shuddered, forcing down the bile that rose in my throat.

Petra looked at me helplessly.

"What now?" she asked.

We were interrupted by a thunderous roar overhead. I heard the mechanical whirring of the Tripod outside. I stared up for a moment at the polished wood ceiling, paralyzed with fear. Then I was being pelted by bits of lumber, insulation, drywall and steel as the roof of the restaurant was wrenched from its place and held above us. I lifted my arms impulsively to protect myself from the rubble as it showered down upon me.

Then, seemingly in slow motion, the Tripod let go of the roof. It tumbled down and landed roughly on one corner of the dilapidated restaurant, causing more broken wood and bits of drywall to batter my already bruised arms. One particularly large piece of lumber flew at me before I could get out of the way, and knocked me to the ground. More wreckage followed this, all I could do was cover my head with my arms and wait for it to stop.

The smell of the rain mingled with the smell of the wood and wet insulation, stinging my throat and nose as I struggled to my feet, pushing scraps of the roof off of myself. Suddenly I was struck by a distressing thought. Had Petra and Mona survived?

I stared at the remnants of the building around me. The dust was only beginning to settle.

**A/N – I was thinking of adding some subtle RobbiexPetra. Is that okay with you? PM or write it in a review, please. **


	9. Trapped

Chapter 8

The battered walls of the restaurant were streaked with dirt, rain falling through the hole where the roof once was. I was starting to be thankful for the rain, the dirt in the air would have been so much worse than it already was. I waved a hand through the cloud of dust in front of me, clearing some of it away from myself.

I heard a scraping sound a few paces to my left. Turning, I saw a pile of rubble being pushed out from under a piece of the fallen ceiling. I rushed over and dug frantically. Finally I saw a grime-covered hand protruding from amidst the dirt and debris. I grasped it and pulled. Slowly, a face appeared from the darkness under the wreckage.

"Robbie!" Petra cried. I let go of her arm and knelt on the ground. There wasn't a big enough opening to pull her outside.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she said, peering into the blackness behind her. "Mona's under here too. She's all right. There's quite a bit of room actually, I think this piece kind of fell against the wall. But we can't get out."

I looked up for a moment. Sure enough, the piece they were trapped under was leaning against the wall. I bent down and looked into Petra's distressed face.

"Don't worry, I'll think of something," I said. I got up and looked around. Now how in the hell was I supposed to get them out?

I decided to find out how badly they were trapped, first. Perhaps I could find another way to free them from their present location. I walked around the fallen section of the ceiling and the wall it leaned against, examining every inch of it for some hint of a way to free my friends.

I found nothing. Sitting in the middle of the floor of the crumbling building, I pulled my knees to my chest. I sighed heavily and glanced around myself. Suddenly I noticed a piece of fabric sticking out from underneath a pile of lumber and an overturned table. I squinted at it, trying to figure out what it was. Getting up slowly, I frowned. What if somebody else was trapped as well?

Walking quickly over to the pile of wreckage that it was under, I knelt down, and cleared the rubble off of them. Now I could clearly see the outline of a human body through the swirling clouds of dust. I shook the person's leg gingerly, not wanting to cause them pain if they were injured. They didn't move. I shook their leg again, harder this time. They still didn't move.

"Shit," I said under my breath. I leaned over to check their pulse.

The clouds of dust parted to reveal what I had not seen.

I recoiled instantly and shoved myself backwards. It was the body of the decapitated man. I had touched a corpse. Shuddering violently and feeling my stomach heave, I turned and retched on the ground. I wiped my mouth and took deep breaths. _I touched a corpse. A CORPSE. A DEAD person. _I shuddered again. Too many dead people in the last few days.

Getting up shakily, I walked back over to the bit of ceiling trapping Petra and Mona.

"Can't find anything," I reported to the darkness under the wreckage. "Got any ideas?"

Petra's face materialized in front of me. "There's a place over on that side," -she motioned with her hand to my left- "That seems pretty weak. I can't push it out though. You'll have to do it. Hang on." She disappeared once again.

I heard a loud knocking a few moments later. I followed the sound around to the left side of the pile of rubble and stopped.

"Right here," I heard Petra say faintly, indicating the spot by knocking on it again. "Try pushing it in."

I pushed on it as hard as I could, bracing my feet against the ground.

"It's not working," I said.

"Well, kick it then."

"OK. I'll try. Get out of the way first, though."

I heard shuffling and muffled speech from beneath the wreckage.

"Go ahead!" Petra called loudly.

I kicked with all of my strength. I heard the satisfying sound of splintering wood as my foot broke through. Petra gave a whoop of excitement and came flying out of the hole as soon as I had withdrawn my leg.

"Yes! You did it!" she screamed.

She spotted me and, with a huge grin spreading across her face, threw her arms around me. I stumbled backwards, the force of this unexpected gesture sending me falling headlong onto the ground. I landed hard on my back with Petra on top of me. I blinked and stared up at her.

"Uhh….Sorry," she said sheepishly, a red tinge flooding her cheeks. Stray strands of hair had come loose from her ponytail and were hanging in front of her face. My eyes followed a raindrop's path from her hairline, over her cheekbone and off her chin, dripping onto my chest. I could feel her elbow digging sharply into my abdomen.

"Er….that's ok. You might want to get up now though. You know, before you impale me with your elbow…?" I said.

"Oops," Petra said, getting up quickly and offering a hand to help me to my feet. I walked over to the opening that I had created in the ruined ceiling.

"Mona?" I called. "Are you in there?"

"Hold this."

All of a sudden a dusty sweater was thrust at me through the hole. I coughed sporadically for a minute, clearing the dust from my breathing passages. I looked up through watering eyes to see Mona climbing carefully through the hole. I realized then that it had finally stopped raining

"It's about time!" she said. She dusted herself off and snatched her sweater from my hands.

"You're welcome?" I said sarcastically.

"Don't be smart with me!" Mona snapped.

For such a small person, she could sure be intimidating.

"What now?" Mona said.

I looked at Petra and found her staring at the ground. I shrugged and turned back to Mona.

"Next thing to do is to find somewhere to sleep, I guess."

**A/N – Sorry guys, but my updates will probably be a little slow for a while. This is the last pre-written chapter I've got; the next ones will be posted when they're finished. **


	10. Bicycles

Chapter 9

We decided to 'sleep under the stars' that night. We built a small shelter from some of the debris, just in case the rain started up again. For the sleeping arrangement, I ended up laying beside Mona, with Petra on her other side. For endless minutes, I just lay there and listened to the steady rhythm of my companions' breathing, unable to fall asleep. Finally I sat up, looking over at Petra's still form illuminated in the moonlight a few feet away.

_I wouldn't have minded sleeping beside her, _said a sly little voice in my head. _Right beside her…_I shook my head rapidly. _Robbie! Get your head out of the gutter! _I lay back down quickly and chewed my bottom lip, willing my devilish side to leave me alone. Squeezing my eyes shut, I forced myself to think of Rachael and how ecstatic she would be when I returned. With that thought on my mind, I finally drifted off into the calm depths of comforting slumber.

XXXX

I was the first to awaken the next morning. I wandered aimlessly around the rubble until I saw Mona start to stir. When she had woken, she impatiently roused Petra, who opened her eyes and glanced around confusedly for a minute, before recognizing the dilapidated restaurant around her.

"Oh," she said, the image of her surroundings finally clicking in her mind.

"Lets go!" Mona said, tugging on her granddaughter's arm.

"What? Where?" Petra asked confusedly.

"…Yeah. Where _are _we going?" I asked. We hadn't discussed a thing.

"To Dunville," Mona said.

"Don't Aunt Rose and Uncle Peter live there?" Petra asked.

"Yes," Mona said. "We could go and live with them until this whole mess boils over. And it's only a few hours from here."

"A few hours' _drive_," corrected Petra. "It'll take us at least a day to walk there, if not more."

At that moment, my thoughts were elsewhere. If I went with them to Dunville, and they decided to stay there, where would that leave me? I would be on my own again. A feeling of unease settled in the pit of my stomach. That wasn't something I had counted on happening anytime soon. Where would I go from there? I would go on to Boston, that was for certain. But I didn't like the idea of being alone. This did not bode well.

When I tuned back in to the conversation, Mona was saying, "Well, we'll find someone to drive us."

"In what? A shopping cart? There are no working vehicles!" Petra insisted.

"Then we walk."

"That will take forever!"

"So what?"

"So I don't want to be walking nonstop for an entire day!"

"Uh, guys?" I intervened. "What about those?"

XXXX

An hour later, we were cycling single file down the highway. I had spotted a bike rack while Mona and Petra had been arguing about the trip to Dunville. Upon assuming that the owners of the bicycles would not be returning to claim their possessions, we each found a bike that was not chained to the rack, and hopped on. And now here we were, huffing and panting and perspiring, and I, for one, was starting to think that perhaps we _should_ have walked.

"Can – we – have a – rest – now?" Petra gasped, slowing to a halt at the side of the road. I followed suit without objection. Mona grumbled but did not openly disagree. It amazed me that out of us three, she was the one with the most physical endurance and strength.

"Okay, you've rested. Can we go now?" Mona complained after a few minutes.

"What?!" Petra yelped. "Not yet! I haven't even caught my breath!"

"I hate to say it, but me too," I added. "I don't think either of us are in any kind of shape to keep up with you at this pace."

"_You_ can't keep up with_ me_? I'm an old lady for Christ's sake!" Mona exclaimed. "I should be the one trying to keep up with you!"

"Well, unfortunately it's the other way around," I said.

"So you either have to let us go slower or let us have breaks," Petra said.

"Young people these days," Mona grumbled, sliding the kickstand of her bike onto the ground as she waited.

Presently, my ears caught a faint humming sound on the wind. I frowned. Looking at my companions, I saw that they too were straining to hear the sound. Yes, it was definitely there. And it was becoming louder by the second. A few moments later, I realized what it was. The distinct sound of an automobile.

Only minutes later, a truck came into my line of vision. As I watched it approach, I realized that it was slowly coming to a halt.

**A/N – Argh! So, so, so sorry this was so short! I don't think this even qualifies as a chapter……more like drabble…... Anyways, Dunville is a fictional town (at least, I hope it is. I **_**think**_** I made it up). I was too lazy to actually look at a bunch of maps and try to find a real town that would fit this story. Sorry if that upsets anybody.**


	11. Aunt Rose

Chapter 10

"Can I help you?"

The man was kindly-looking; I would guess that he was approximately sixty years old. He had thin, feathery white hair, and wore large silver-rimmed spectacles. His face was deeply lined, but when he smiled, it lit up his entire face. His dark gray wool sweater contrasted against his pale skin. Overall, he had a sort of grandfatherly look about him. I liked him immediately. He didn't look like he would be the kind of person who would pick us up and then murder us or something. He seemed genuine….but one never truly does know.

I was wary of all strangers after what had happened to John. I was determined to keep Petra and Mona safe, as well as myself.

"Where are you headed?" I replied. Even though he seemed friendly, I knew I couldn't be too careful. Looks can be deceiving.

"Just a few towns over. Family there, see. Need a ride somewhere?" he asked.

I looked sideways at Petra and Mona for help. They exchanged significant glances, and each nodded.

"Uh, yeah. We would be extremely grateful if you could drive us to Dunville," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"How's about those things?" he asked, pointing at our 'borrowed' rides.

"Just this one," I said. Petra frowned and looked at her grandmother, who merely shrugged.

"Well, I haven't got enough room here in the cab," the old man said. "But if you guys don't mind hopping in the back there, I can take ya to Dunville."

I nodded.

After loading the bicycle that I had been riding into the box of the old man's truck, we climbed in, and, with a thumbs up to our chauffeur, we were off.

The ride to Dunville was extremely dusty from the back of the truck. Sand from the road flew up and stung our faces, small stones pelted our clothes. The force of the wind from the speed we were going was enough to take my breath away. I pulled the collar of my jacket up around my face and closed my eyes. I breathed into the interior of my jacket, the wind traveling through the open spaces beside my jaw to provide me with oxygen. I hoped that Petra and Mona were doing the same.

XXXX

Dunville seemed to be unaffected by the Tripods as of yet. The old man dropped us off in front of Petra's Aunt Rose and Uncle Peter's home, as promised. I thanked him and he drove off. Petra and Mona hurried up to the door and knocked on it.

A woman answered the door. I assumed her to be Aunt Rose. She was short, at my estimate barely five feet tall. Her face was round, and, there is no other way to describe it –_ jolly_. Her hair was brown and wavy, falling to about her mid-back. Red makeup covered her cheeks, and she was wearing bright red lipstick, like the kind you see on the actresses on the Red Carpet. Her perfume was strong, a fruity smell that reminded me of my English teacher. She was quite plump, the floral-print dress that she was wearing flowing around her ankles, her attire adding to her motherly aura.

"Petra!" Aunt Rose cried, grinning. Throwing her arms around Petra, she planted multiple kisses on each of her niece's cheeks until they were spotted with red. She gave Mona a similar treatment.

I hung back uncertainly, wondering what I should do.

"And who's this?" Aunt Rose exclaimed, finally noticing me standing on the walkway. "Petra, I didn't know you had a boyfriend!"

Petra blushed furiously. "He's not my boyfriend. We found each other a couple of days ago. He's running too."

Aunt Rose's smile didn't waver in the slightest. Instead, she walked briskly down the steps and embraced me as well. Tightly. Very tightly. For a moment I was afraid that my lungs would be crushed and I would drop dead right in front of her on the sidewalk. Then she let go.

"Well, what's your name?" she asked, still smiling, as I gulped down large swallows of air.

"Robbie," I gasped.

"Come on in, Robbie," she said, taking my arm. She pulled me up the walkway and into her home. Mona and Petra followed us in with amused looks.

I had forgotten the simple joys of being in a house. The warmth flowed into every fiber of by being, relaxing me completely. I looked about curiously as I was dragged down a lengthy hallway and into a large kitchen.

"Sit down, sit down!" cried Aunt Rose, pushing me into the nearest chair by a lace-covered table.

Petra and Mona followed suit, sitting on each side of me. Aunt Rose proceeded to bustle around her kitchen and prepare the biggest supper I had seen since I'd left Mom and Tim's to go to Dad's place. As she prepared the food, she told us stories about everything from neighbourhood gossip to her cat's worms (ew). Not to be cruel, but the stories weren't the most entertaining of tales. The only thing that I paid attention to was the whereabouts of Uncle Peter, who was away working in Canada. I crossed my arms and laid them on the table to rest my head on. I nearly dozed off at one point.

Then she brought out the food. Beef, coleslaw, vegetables, mashed potatoes, gravy, salad, macaroni, the works. The smells woke me up instantly, and my mouth started to water.

I stuffed myself until I couldn't eat any more. My stomach was stretched to its limit. I groaned. What had I been thinking?

"You ARE staying for the night?" Aunt Rose asked. Petra and Mona had decided to stay until they could get in touch with other relatives; I, on the other hand, still did not know what I was going to do.

"Sure," I said. As long as I didn't have to move. I thought that I could afford to stay one night. Sleep in a real bed. Eat real food. Not have to worry about freezing to death when I slept. Yes, I could stay for one night.


	12. Nightmares

Chapter 11

**A/N – Hmmm, another filler chapter. Don't worry guys, next one is more exciting. It's already written :) What can I say? I was on a roll! Happy reading!**

"Would you like to take a shower?" Aunt Rose asked after showing me the guest room.

I nodded.

XXXX

I let the hot water run over my body, washing away a week's worth of extremely unpleasant memories. Hiding in our cellar at Mom and Tim's during the plane crash, being held at gunpoint when our vehicle was stolen, being separated from Rachael and Ray, John's death, the Tripods' attack at the restaurant, the decapitated man. Now this. After all that had happened, the prospect of being alone again absolutely terrified me. I knew that I would most likely not find another person to travel with now.

I was still worried….What if something happened to me, like if I broke my leg and I was in the middle of a forest, where there were no people for miles around? What then? Or, what if I met up with another little gang like the three I'd met with John? I shuddered a little. I didn't even want to think about that. My mind made up more and more horrible scenarios of what could happen to me when I traveled on alone; when it couldn't think of new ones it elaborated others. A vicious cycle.

I finally forced myself to think of other things as I stepped out of the shower. I toweled off and slipped into the clothes that Aunt Rose had left out for me.

I found the hallway dark and quiet. Tiptoeing my way into the spare bedroom, I finally sank into the soft mattress and covered myself with the thick duvet. I turned over onto my side and smiled into the quilts. I was comfortable and warm. Something that I hadn't been for quite a while. Slowly, I drifted off into welcome slumber.

XXXX

I didn't know where I was. All I knew was that it was very foggy and damp; I could see the outlines of shadowy figures milling about in the mist. I stepped forward hesitantly, waving a hand in front of me. I could barely see it.

"Hello?" I called.

Then I was at the battlefield. Ray and Rachael sprinted down the hill, unaware that I was right behind them. Then the explosion.

"No!" I screamed. They were swallowed up by a wall of red hot flames.

I was in the restaurant. A bloodied hand lay unmoving under a pile of rubble. I gasped and stumbled backward.

Then I was in the forest with John and the three men. I watched helplessly as John was shot in front of me. Again. I screamed.

I'd lost them. All of them.

The faces of the three men loomed in front of me, cackling and sneering. The gun was raised to my forehead and I heard a clicking sound as the trigger was pulled.

XXXX

I awoke in a cold sweat, panting and shivering. The blankets had been thrown off the bed sometime during my unrestful sleep. I looked around myself, recognized my surroundings, and sighed. My heartbeat slowed, and I exhaled slowly. It had been a dream. Just a dream. It had been so real….I turned over again, my eyelids slowly closing. I was asleep once again in minutes.

XXXX

The sunlight shone through the window, displaying its brilliance over everything in the bedroom. I opened my eyes and squinted through the brightness. Yawning, I reached down to pull the covers over my body, but found that they were still on the floor. I sighed and dangled my legs off of the edge of the bed, pondering.

I didn't think I was that far from Boston right now. If I borrowed a map from Aunt Rose, I wouldn't lose my way. I could follow the highway until I got there. I wouldn't walk right on the road, but on the side where I would be less conspicuous. I was almost sure that I would likely be supplied with provisions for my trip (probably more than I could comfortably carry); given the person that Aunt Rose seemed to be.

I smiled to myself and slid off the bed. I had a feeling that this was going to be a good day.

XXXX

After eating breakfast, the family gathered to bid me farewell. Aunt Rose gave another bone-crushing hug. Petra thanked me for helping her. She kissed my cheek quickly and hurried into the house, tears glistening in her eyes. Even Mona came out to say goodbye. She shook my hand and told me; "It was nice traveling with you." I was amazed. I didn't think I had ever heard her pay a compliment to anyone.

I'd decided to leave the bicycle behind. I thought that I would be less likely to be noticed if I was walking.

I had been given a backpack full of food and water, including a first aid kit and a thick blanket for the quickly cooling nights. I slung it over my shoulder and waved at the people standing in front of the house, before turning away and swiftly striding down the street.

XXXX

Around noon, I stopped beside a tree to eat lunch. My watch had stopped sometime during my walk; it had been working when I'd woken in the morning. I hated not knowing the time. It made me uneasy.

I pulled the map out of my backpack and examined it thoughtfully. If I stayed on the highway, it would take me a few more days to arrive in Boston. But if I went through this forest, I would arrive in about a day's time. A tremor of fear shook my thin frame. I didn't know if I was ready to face another forest.

Rachael's face appeared involuntarily in my mind. I smiled. I would walk through a thousand forests to get to her. My little sister. I wished that I hadn't been so reckless before. I might have still been with her, been able to protect her when she needed me. I hoped that Ray had taken good care of her until they had reached Boston.

_If _they had reached Boston.

I pushed that thought away. Of course they were in Boston. They had to be.

I finished my sandwich and folded up the map. Getting to my feet, I picked up my backpack and stared into the forest. Taking a deep breath, I took my first step into the trees.


	13. Friend

Chapter 12

I took deep breaths as I walked. _I can do this, I can do this, _I repeated to myself. I heard a scuffling sound and stopped dead, my heart pounding.

A mouse scurried across the path in front of me.

I let out the breath I'd been holding and laughed a little. What had I been so worried for? Nothing was going to happen. I shook my head at my own jumpiness and started walking once again.

Some time later, I entered a clearing. I stopped to look around. There was an orange marker on one of the trees. What was this place marked for? I examined my surroundings. All I could see were a bunch of trees, a fallen log, a pile of rocks, and a leafy forest floor. I shrugged and took a few steps forward.

Crack! I felt myself hurtling downward with a whirlwind of leaves and broken branches. I landed with a thump, facedown. Groaning, I sat up, spitting out the dust and leaves that had found their way into my mouth. I moved all of my limbs gingerly. Everything seemed to be where it was supposed to. I wasn't in any pain, except for a very achy throbbing in my right temple. I moaned and covered the right side of my face with one hand. What a time to get a headache.

I blinked and looked around. I seemed to be in a dirt pit that was about 7 feet high, from the bottom to top. It looked like one of those old hunting pits that hunters use for bears, digging them and covering them again with sticks and leaves so that unsuspecting animals would fall in. I groaned again. It was like a really clichéd part in one of those old movies. Except that I didn't think that there was going to be any sheriff who happened to be doing his daily rounds that was going to come and rescue me.

I looked over to where my backpack had fallen a few feet away. I leaned over and pulled it towards me. Nothing had been damaged in the fall. I tugged the blanket out. The backpack was now half-empty. I sighed and pulled the blanket around myself, waiting.

XXXX

Moonlight shone through the trees, casting eerie, uneven shadows upon the wall of my prison. I could hear the wind howling over the top of the pit above me, and was thankful that at least the dirt walls provided some shelter.

My head was pounding. I had found some Advil in the first aid kit, but it didn't help much. The pain had ebbed faintly, but not enough. I was still uncomfortable. I sat in a daze for what seemed like eternity. I didn't want to get up, didn't want to move, speak, or even think. And I didn't.

Before long, I thought I heard a shuffling sound above me. I looked upwards, and my head exploded with pain. Cringing, I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to dissipate into a dull throbbing once more. Opening my eyes, what I saw perched on the edge of the pit surprised me greatly.

A black Labrador retriever. It looked like it wasn't yet a year old, still small. And very energetic, which I could deduce from the way its tail was beating the air frenziedly. Its ears were perked up, and it stared down at me. It was wearing a frayed and faded black collar. It barked, and raced around the edge of the pit above me several times. Coming to a halt, it looked down at me and cocked its head. It looked down, judging the distance from its current position to the bottom of the pit, as it carefully placed its paws as far down the embankment as it could without falling.

"No, no, boy! Stay there!" I called to it. I didn't want it to fall in and be stuck with me as well. Too late.

The dog scrambled almost uncontrollably down the wall into the pit. He whimpered as he hit the ground, but got to his feet quickly and was beside me before I could do anything, wagging his tail and licking my neck as I struggled to keep my face above the reach of his tongue.

"No! Down boy, down!" I said loudly, wondering if this dog knew any commands. He didn't have a collar.

He stopped immediately and stopped to study me, tilting his head to one side again.

"Good boy," I breathed, raising one hand to pat his head and another to hold my aching head. "Lie down?"

The dog immediately curled up obediently beside me, his head resting against my leg. I covered him with part of the blanket. If he was going to be sleeping down here with me, he might as well be warm too.

XXXX

The next morning dawned bright and crisp and clear. And cold.

I shivered beneath the blanket. I could see my breath come out in clouds. The dog awoke soon after, yawning and sliding out from under the blanket. He stretched, then wagged his tail, as if expecting me to play with him. I smiled at the enthusiastic creature in front of me. His energy was contagious.

Today my head was clearer, and the pain was almost gone. I took some food out of the backpack. If I was going to figure out a way to escape this pit, I would like to have a full belly as I did so. The dog stopped wagging his tail and walked over to me. He laid his head in my lap and looked up at me hopefully, then at the sandwich in my hand, then back to me, with a sorrowful look on his face.

I snorted. "You're just a little beggar, aren't you?" I said. I ripped the sandwich in half and gave him a piece. He gobbled it up greedily and started nosing the backpack excitedly, looking for more.

"Oh, no you don't," I told him, taking the backpack and pulling the drawstring tight. "I've only got enough to last me a couple of days. And if I end up sharing with you it won't even last _that_ long. Now you've got to wait until lunch."

The dog whined but didn't seem too terribly surprised by my actions. Instead, he started sniffing around the bottom edge of the pit. After a few minutes, he started to dig. Chunks of dirt flew out behind him.

"What in the world are you doing now?" I wondered out loud.

**A/N – Yay! This was a fun chapter! What's the dog doing, hmmm:P **


	14. Reunion

Chapter 13

I watched him dig for a while. What the heck was he doing? The little bugger really had me stumped. Especially when he propped the front of his body up about another foot above his first hole, and started a new one.

I frowned. I had never seen a dog do this before. Strangely enough, he kept looking back at me every few minutes, like he was trying very hard to get a message across.

After he had started on his third hole, just above the other two, he stopped. Turning around, he loped over to me and fastened his teeth to the sleeve of my jacket. And proceeded to pull me towards his very strange holes. He let go and I stood in front of them, confused.

"Nice digging, buddy," I said amusedly. He pushed his head against the back of my knee, hard. I stumbled forwards. "What the hell are you doing, you stupid-" I stopped. As I'd been falling, I'd grabbed hold of the edge of the dog's third hole. I used it to pull myself to my feet, realization finally dawning on me. I smacked myself on the forehead. Of course! No wonder he had been looking at me like I was the dumbest person on the planet. He'd been digging footholds in the wall!

"That's brilliant!" I shouted. "Thank God you're so smart, eh Einstein?"

XXXX

Einstein (as I'd decided to call him) finished hole number three and started on four, but it was hard for him to reach that high, so I helped him a bit on that one. After that, I dug three more footholds in the wall, high enough so that I could easily climb out.

I checked them all to make sure they were secure, and then gave them a test run.

My fingers grasped the edge of the pit as I climbed. I pulled myself over the edge and out. "Yes!" I cheered. Einstein whined below me. I looked down at him and grinned. "You don't really think that I would leave you behind, do you?"

I jumped back down and stuffed the blanket back into the backpack. I ate half of another sandwich and gave Einstein his share, thinking that I wouldn't likely eat anything else if I could make it to Boston today. Heaving the backpack out of the pit, I took a few minutes and deliberated ways to help my furry friend out. Finally I decided that the easiest way would be just to lift him.

I picked him up (with much difficulty) and after a few minutes of struggling, finally managed to push him onto the ground above. I climbed out after him and picked up the backpack.

"Think we'll get to Boston today?" I asked the dog. He looked up at me and wagged his tail.

"I hope so, too," I said.

XXXX

I emerged from the forest with Einstein that afternoon. I could see the buildings and houses of Boston, and their twinkling lights in the distance. I turned and patted Einstein on the head.

"There it is!" I said excitedly. I judged that from where I was, I could make it to the outskirts of the city in no more than a few hours.

XXXX

I kept a tight hold on Einstein's collar as we started down one of the side streets of Boston. I didn't want him to run away from me and get lost, or caught by one of the city's dog-catchers. I was getting attached to him, and when I arrived at Grandma's I was going to beg my mother to let me keep him. I knew where my grandmother lived, but I wasn't exactly sure how long it would take me to get there. First I had to find the main highway. Then I could figure out which way to go.

After about a half hour of wandering around the suburbs of Boston, I finally found Main Street. Brightly lit shops with neon lights caught my eye at every angle. I could smell fast food wafting from the many restaurants up and down the street. People bustled to and fro on both sides of the street, in and out of shops, getting in and out of cars and chatting with one another. Vehicles zoomed down the highway.

Einstein pulled at his collar, trying to escape and explore this new place.

"Oh, no, you don't," I said, tugging him down the street. I dragged him down the Main until I found the street I'd been looking for. I walked faster.

There it was. I ran up the steps to my grandmother's house, pulling Einstein behind me. I pounded my fist on the door. I heard footsteps approach from the inside.

"Whatever it is that you're selling, we aren't interested!"

"Mom? Let me in!"

"ROBBIE!" My mother screamed. The door banged open and I found my arms pinned to my sides as she hugged me fiercely.

"Robbie," she sobbed. "You came! But…where's Rachael?"

"She's not here?" My heart sunk.

"No…you're the only one."

I hesitated. "We got…separated. Ray's with her, though. He'll take care of her. " I hoped that he would.

My mother looked skeptical, but hat seemed to comfort her, somewhat.

We stood there embracing for a long while, until Einstein gave a small whimper.

"Who's this?" Mom asked, bending down to pat the dog. He licked her face and she smiled through her tears.

"You won't believe it, but…"

XXXX

After being encouraged to recount the tale of my many adventures, we sat down to an early dinner in my grandmother's kitchen.

My mother and Tim chatted with my grandparents happily as she ate. I played with my food, staring out the window. I didn't feel like eating. I couldn't believe that I had arrived before Rachael and Ray. What if something had happened to them?

Something outside caught my eye. Was I hallucinating? I stood up sharply and bumped the table, spilling the water pitcher.

"Robbie! What's gotten into you?" Mom scolded.

I didn't say a word. Just pointed out the window. My mother turned slowly and looked where I was pointing. She shrieked and bolted for the door. I followed without another word. My grandparents looked at each other confusedly, then shrugged and came after us.

Rachael ran up the street and into our mother's arms. Ray stood back, looking uncertain. I stepped out of the doorway and he looked up at me, wonder and relief both sweeping across his face.

Suddenly I was standing in front of him. I don't remember walking down the steps, or across the sidewalk, or down the middle of the empty street. I was just there. Ray stared at me, and I stared back.

"Hi, Dad," I whispered. The first words I had spoken to him since the battlefield. "Hi Dad," I repeated. My voice broke. Ray's arms closed around me. The same way they had when I'd been a small child and had skinned a knee, or been afraid of the boogeymen in my closet, or had a nightmare. Those very same comforting arms. I hugged him back, emotions washing across me like a tidal wave.

They were alive. I was alive. Everything was going to be all right.

**A/N – Epilogue will be posted tomorrow :) **


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

As I lay in bed that night, I pondered the events of the past week. Ray and Rachael were both alive and well. _I _was alive and well. I had a new dog. I had met and lost some amazing people.

The Tripods had been defeated. Somewhere, deep down, I think I knew that they didn't belong in this world, on our Earth. But I don't think anyone could have predicted the way they would be defeated. The smallest particle on our planet, the most overlooked, was the most powerful. The most likely to survive in a changing world.

The human race had proved its dominance, but perhaps had we not been assisted, we may not have lived to see our loved ones another day. Had we been guided by some unseen force? Or had it been a coincidence? Or simply luck, pure and simple? We will never know. I was content not to know, and for now, I was glad just to be alive and loved amidst an ever-flourishing population. Surviving.

Ultimately, that was what this had been about. Survival. Survival is what has shaped our world for many years, and will continue to do so forevermore.

I smiled as I sat up and looked out the window into the starry sky. We never know what will come next. But as long as we have each other, we'll be ready for anything.


End file.
